


Hesitation

by Domoz



Category: Critical Hit (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 19:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domoz/pseuds/Domoz
Summary: The portal home stands open, but Ket, unclear on what he’s meant to do, hesitates. In just one moment, his window of opportunity has passed.And that is how Ket spends the next five years trapped in the feywild with one Orem Rivendorn.





	1. Year One

Orem’s head felt heavy and hot. It wasn’t a usual sensation for an eladrin to _ wake up _ , but it was one he had unfortunately grown all too accustomed to. His eyelids felt too heavy to open and there were sounds, but they were distant and unrecognizable as if they were coming to him from underwater.

He tried his best to put the fragments of memory in his head back together. There had been Spud - yes, he had been taken care of - and then everyone had reconvened and there had been a conversation and- Ah. That had been it. There had been an argument over who was to pay the price to their fey ally, and for some reason, everyone else had been adamant that he not be the one to go, evidently to the point of  _ knocking him out _ .

Orem knew that, rationally, he should have felt angry, but the events of the past few days, the past few  _ months _ had left him so incredibly exhausted he couldn’t begin to well up the feeling. Whatever had happened, whoever had gone, it was already over. With a weary groan, he made the effort of opening his eyes.

He hadn’t realized it before, but Spud’s influence must have made the sky just a slightly off tinge of purple. Now it was the vibrant blue of a late spring afternoon, boughs of trees waving in the wind at the edge of his vision.

He took a deep breath in to try and muster the energy to sit up and it hit him just how badly his throat hurt. Memories flashed into Orem’s head of old conversations - about not attacking allies - and it took him another long moment to let the breath out and back in. He could feel the bitterness welling up somewhere deep within him, but it was covered with a thick layer of numbness and shock, it was not something he could deal with right now. Finally, he reached out, his hand finding purchase on what was evidently a blanket someone had laid him out on, and ever so slowly sat up.

He blinked a few more times as his vision focused - most of what was in front of him were the camps of those who had come to take back the keep - the eladrin and gnomes that had followed his father - large white and green tents, still surrounded by a bustle of activity as those inside were trying to organize after their victory. It actually didn’t seem like very much time had passed at all.  _ So then where…? _

He looked around, and there, sitting on the far edge of the blanket he had been lain on, knees pulled up to his chest, was Ket, watching him out of the corner of his eye as he stirred. Well, that answered one question, at least.

Ket didn’t speak, and before Orem did he took a moment to look him over. Everyone had still been disheveled from the aftermath of the battle and Ket was no exception. It seemed he had taken no effort to clean himself up and, in fact, he somehow looked worse - there was a red rim on the edges of his eyes like he had been-  _ oh _ .

“Ket. Where is everyone else?” 

Thankfully it didn’t hurt too much to talk. Ket turned to look at him now, expression sullen.

“They’re gone.”

“What do you mean gone. Everyone?”

That was enough of a shock that he finally felt some emotion - a panic rising to the top of his chest. Had the Hogba somehow decided that one was not enough? Had they offended him? He  _ knew _ he should have been the one to go-

Then Ket shook his head and the feeling dwindled.

“Your parents opened up a portal long enough for Trelle and Randus to go back home.”

“But not you?”

Another morose shake of the head.

“I… waited too long.”

“Hm.”

Orem turned back to look at the camp - it seemed they were setting up fortifications for a longer stay here.

He didn’t know what to make of it. If what Ket had said was true, Trelle and Randus had left without a word to him, after everything that had happened. The fact that Ket had conspicuously not mentioned Torq hung heavily in the air, and Orem opted to let it stay there. He had steeled his heart to all sorts of horrible things since he had left the feywild, what was one more? It felt to him as though not having confirmation would make it hurt less. He could simply pretend Torq had wandered off after some distraction...

He heaved a long sigh, set his jaw, and levered himself to his feet. If their argument was that he shouldn’t have gone because he was too important here, then he may as well make it true. 

It was all he had in him to conjure a spell to get his clothes and hair presentable, but he managed it, and without another word to Ket began making his way towards the camp in front of him.

The rest of the day was spent trying to organize. People, it seemed, were more than happy to follow his lead despite the fact that he had no experience in construction, or farming, or any of the things that you need to do to rebuild a community. His parents, for their part, actually seemed more than content to let Orem head the effort, already setting their eyes on broader problems.

Ket eventually showed up, conspicuously appearing near the edge of conversations about what groups should be going where, keeping his arms crossed and silently listening. 

Ket did not have the benefit of eladrin eyes that hid where one was looking, so his lingered, a little too obviously, on Orem. Orem chose to ignore them. He didn’t know what Ket wanted from him but he doubted he even had it to give anymore.

  
  


* * *

Orem had wondered if properly meditating would make him lose control of his emotions, but they remained buried too deep, and Orem had no intention of digging them back up. When going over those memories, he tried to look over them as dispassionately as he could.

He had seen the eladrin arrive from the astral sea. It was an auspicious sign, but it seemed to have been a one way trip, leaving them stranded. Just like…

Orem let out a small sigh, thankfully alone in the small tent he had picked out for himself.

Just like Ket who, strangely, was the only one who hadn’t abandoned him despite his vocal dislike of the feywild. There had to be something more to why he was here, but whatever the case he was here now. Hopefully he would agree with Orem that reconnecting the feywild to the rest of the world would be vital in its survival and when the time came for him to inevitably try and leave, would do so in a way that helped everyone instead of just disappearing alone into the feydark to see if he could take the long way around. 

In the meantime, he wasn’t sure what to do with Ket at all. His skillset, much like Orem’s own, was far more suited to fighting off monsters than rebuilding a community. But, then again, the Spring Wood was still teeming with weirds and monsters. He was sure he could find something for Ket to do.

* * *

It turned out that, when left to his own devices, Ket naturally gravitated towards the working folks, which surprised Orem. He stood out there, taller and darker than most eladrin, and the difference was only highlighted by the fact that the construction crews he often worked with were made up mostly of gnomes. 

They had still talked very little. Ket would always cast long glances up at Orem when he noticed his presence but it wasn’t often that Orem had time to stop and chat, and when he did it was kept to the subject at hand - how far along this shelter was, how long it would be until they could move a family in. Ket seemed to be adjusting, at least, able to find some kind of purpose here to distract himself from how stuck he was, though he still looked constantly annoyed.

(Well, there had been one conversation. Orem had turned to leave and Ket had called out his name. Orem had paused and Ket asked him, after a moment of hesitation, if Orem thought that there would be a way for him to leave. Orem had sighed and told him the truth - that himself and a few others had been looking into it, but for the time being, an escape did not look likely. Ket had just sighed and gotten back to work.)

Orem kept himself distracted too, going from meeting to meeting - now to oversee the patrol of the wall at the edge of the Grove, now to hearing reports of sightings of more new strange creatures, there to fight away an encroaching beast. Somewhere during the chaos, his parents had gathered up a group of their own and announced their intent to return to the Autumn Wood. 

That suited Orem just fine - it was just one less thing to worry about.

He managed not to have a moment to himself for nearly two weeks, only pausing when he felt he had to meditate, and even then doing  _ that _ far less often than he would normally. It was quite probably the first time he’d taken a break from doing  _ something _ in all that time when Kammis sidled up beside him, took him by the arm and firmly steered him away from his work.

Orem grumbled, but he didn’t fight back against his sister too strongly as she brought them to a ruined garden - whatever statue had been the centerpiece here lay broken into a thousand pieces and scattered around, now covered with the fast growing ferns and lichens of the feywild - and sat them down on a bench.

“Orem.”

He set his mouth in a thin line.

“This had better be important. You know how busy things are around here.”

Kammis sighed, but the grip on his arm tightened.

“Not busy enough that you can’t take care of yourself.”

“I am plenty taken care of.”

His back felt stiff and there were dark bags under his eyes from another night of sub-par meditation, but Orem knew what this was really about. He had heard the rumors - other Eladrin wanted to leave the Spring Wood and settle in the other seasons. It only made sense that another Rivendorn would bring them, too.

His voice was, unintentionally, a little softer. 

“You’re leaving me too, aren’t you?”

Just saying it made a foreign emotion well up into his throat that he pushed back down with a deep breath

“Orem…”

He shook his head. This was just the logical thing to do, of course. The other seasons probably hadn’t been destroyed nearly as badly, it only made sense to settle people there was well.

“Orem.” Kammis spoke more solidly this time, reaching out to grab his other hand.

There was a new heat behind his eyes, which was strange because the Cerulean Vale had been quite cool as of late, and it should have been even cooler in the shade of the garden.

“I’m going to the Fen of Winters,” Her voice was calm and steady, “I’m not  _ leaving _ you.”

He nodded. Arguing the semantics with her was pointless, he knew. She would be leaving. Probably soon. _ At least she felt the need to tell him beforehand. _

“I just wanted to make sure my brother doesn’t work himself to death,” Kammis continued.

Orem laughed, it was short and bitter.

“I won’t. It would be a waste, after everything that’s happened.”

Kammis frowned, and seemed to be considering saying something further, but in that moment there was another voice from the other side of the garden.

“Er, Master Rivendorn?” There was a gnome at the gates of the garden, wringing her hands, “There’s er- sort of a conundrum at the western wall.”

Kammis sighed, but she let her brother go as he stood up, adjusted his sword belt and made to leave.

Two days later she and another group of eladrin left, her final goodbye being a slight bow to her brother as she turned to leave.

As he watched her go Orem found his gaze drifting to the long braid she wore her hair in. It was custom, in eladrin society, to braid one’s hair to signal that one was in a committed relationship. Unless something very strange had happened outside of his notice, it appeared as though his sister had decided to wait for Trelle to return. He felt it was unlikely for her to return as any of his other allies, but then again his sister had likely had the chance to at least say goodbye. He frowned and turned away to go bury his bitterness in some other distraction. There were more important things to worry about now.

* * *

Rebuilding was going well, Orem thought. Almost suspiciously too well, to the point that, try as he might, Orem couldn’t keep himself _ constantly  _ busy. It was close, but it seemed that today he finally had some time to himself.

He had been trying to avoid being alone with his own thoughts for a solid month now and had so far managed to succeed. But now, for the moment, most pressing concerns seemed to be taken care of and he had been  _ politely _ told to let others get on with their own jobs without interruptions. 

So. He had gone for a walk, first around the perimeter of the part of the Grove they had so far reclaimed, and then into the Amethyst Keep, telling himself that he was checking that all was safe and quiet.

He tried to make sure his mind stuck to lighter things, how the vegetation looked much healthier and in fact, many of the flowers that would normally bloom weeks apart had spread their petals at the same time, now that the danger had passed, and the untended gardens of the Grove were awash with bright colors.

He paused as he passed into one of the places in the Keep that hadn’t been too badly damaged. The hall itself was fine, the purple crystals of which it was made up of seemed nearly indestructible, but most of the crystals set up into high alcoves in the walls were cracked, lighting up with a light that dimly flickered or not at all. He supposed he should take note of which ones needed replacing, but honestly, anything like this would be better used in the Grove at large, not lighting up some still mostly-abandoned hallway. 

Still, he wondered if this place would ever be fully restored. He had only been to the areas most unaffected by Spud’s outrage - the courtyard and outlying towers - most of the rest of the place was dangerous or completely inaccessible, huge purple crystals barring entry to most of the rest of the building. Come to think of it, the last time he had seen Ket had been with a crew that was making an attempt at removing some of the crystals so the Keep could be used as a defensive fortification again.

Orem frowned to himself as he climbed the steps of another tower. Ket was a problem he still wasn’t sure how to solve. He had honestly expected him to have left by now, or at least tried, but Ket remained, the sore thumb standing out among all the other survivors in the feywild.

They still hadn’t talked about what had happened - he was sure Ket had tried, but Orem, up until now, had been very good at making sure no one - Ket or anyone else - had been able to get in a word edgewise about it. Ket had eventually given up and focused his energies helping rebuild. Which Orem appreciated, he supposed, but he suspected Ket’s skills could be put to better use than manual labor.

He hummed thoughtfully to himself as he crested the top of another tower. There were wards that had been set up to prevent the invasion of weirds; Ket’s magical ability wasn’t exactly precise, but he had the raw power to keep them running, and it would allow others to pursue other things.  _ Like, say, finding a way out of the feywild. That would certainly convince Ket to give it a try... _

He walked to the edge of the tower and rested his arms on the parapets. There was, as always, a bustle of activity. Another building was close to completion - it would help alleviate the complaints of there not being enough space to sleep or meditate privately, but Orem knew it wouldn't be enough. Clearing out rooms in the keep really  _ would _ be a quick way to get people out of their temporary shelters, though. Maybe Ket did have the right idea…

He straightened up as he heard footsteps approaching from the stairs behind. Another problem required his attention, he was sure...

“Orem?” A familiar voice called, “I thought I heard someone say they had seen you come up here.”

Speak of the devil, there was Ket. He looked to have abandoned his coat but otherwise looked pretty much the same as he always had. A little more tired, perhaps, but didn’t everyone?

“I was just… Surveying our progress.”

Ket nodded, expression sober. He probably didn’t care why Orem was up here, just that he  _ was  _ here.

Orem felt himself falter. “Is... There a problem?”

“Not… exactly,” Ket frowned, and then sighed, “I just wanted to see what you were up to.”

“Well -” Orem gestured at the landscape around them. He didn’t think he liked where this conversation was going, “I hope that answers your question. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

Orem tried to step past him, but the doorway was so small that Ket hardly had to move at all to stop Orem from moving forward. He looked apologetic but didn’t seem intent to let Orem leave just yet.

“I know -- you’re busy -- but you haven’t spoken a word to me in over a week, and I just-” Ket gritted his teeth. This was not a conversation either of them would be good at having at the best of times, “I’m just… not convinced you’re dealing with everything that happened very well.”

“Everything has been going perfectly fine.” Orem replied dispassionately, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Well... I will. Considering you’re the only person in the whole plane that I even  _ know _ .” Ket was getting frustrated, but the show of emotion in his face set of a reaction in Orem he tried desperately to control. His throat grew tight and he could feel his face growing hotter.

“Now is not the time-”

“Orem.” Now Ket’s voice was soft but allowed for no argument, “Orem, you didn’t even ask who went with … our ally.”

Anger was not the emotion that Orem expected to feel after so long, but it felt safer than the alternatives. It was easier to fight back all the other feelings beneath  _ angry _ if he leaned into it.

“I  _ know _ who went with him. I just don’t think it matters,” He snapped, “They’re all gone anyways.”

Ket’s shoulders sank, but he looked almost relieved at having gotten  _ something _ out of Orem.

“They had other responsibilities, Orem.”

“And Torq didn’t?!”

Just saying his name, confronting what had really happened was enough to break this carefully crafted barrier of unfeeling down. Tears welled up in his eyes and his hands moved up to swipe them away. There was no way he could claim  _ dust _ up here, not that he even had the presence of mind to do so. 

“ _ Everyone _ had things they needed to take care of,” Ket tried not to bring attention to the fact that he himself was not going to be able to do those things now, whatever they were. “That was how Torq thought he could do it the best.”

“ _ It shouldn’t have been his choice! _ ” Orem exploded, “It was supposed to be me!” 

Ket took a step closer to Orem, arms moving in a way that was dangerously close to a hug. Orem matched his step and moved away.  _ That _ was not something he could take right now.

As he wiped at his eyes again, somewhere deep down he found himself thankful that this had happened somewhere no one could hear.

Ket dropped his arms, sadness creeping up into his eyes.

“It was  _ everyone’s _ choice. And we weren’t going to just let you go on your own.”

“But why  _ him? _ ” Orem knew he was acting irrationally now, a sob wracked its way through his body that he just couldn’t stop.

“Would you rather it have been Randus?” Ket’s voice was still quiet, but his words did nothing to make Orem feel calmer.

“No!” Orem repeated, now giving up on trying to keep the tears from running down his face, “It should have been me!”

Ket reached out again, and Orem was so indisposed now that he did nothing to stop him from taking his arm.

“It shouldn’t have been  _ anyone _ .”

Orem shook his head again, but he was out of words now. Not that he could have gotten them out over the sobs that were now wracking him. His back found the edge of the tower parapet and he slid down it, clutching at his middle.

Ket had learned his lesson from a moment before and moved not to do anything else but sit down beside Orem, looking at him for a moment and then staring with a blank expression at the other side of the tower.

“I miss him too,” Ket said, though he knew Orem wasn’t able to respond.

They sat like that without a word between them for nearly an hour, until Orem finally got enough control of himself that the tears began to dry up. Ket slowly stood up, stretching muscles that were stiff from sitting on the cold stone. He offered a hand to help Orem up, but his mind was still too exhausted to even immediately understand what Ket was doing and he simply stared at it, so Ket just let it drop.

“I’m sure people will be looking for you by now,” Ket had been quiet the whole time but somehow looked more exhausted than he did when he had come up here, “I’ll go make sure they'll know you’ll be ready soon.”

Orem sniffed and nodded, but made no move to stand up, opting to sit a moment longer and watch Ket make his way down the stairs.

He would eventually go back down and resume his life as it had been, as though nothing had happened. He would bring up the idea of Ket being the one to charge the wards, and Ket would agree, splitting his time between that and his help with the slow reclamation of the Keep. And life in the feywild would go on as it had, but somewhere deep inside Orem felt a little less numb.


	2. Year Two

Orem looked out at the view from his new room in the Amethyst Keep.

The group that had excavated the dozen or so newly usable rooms insisted that Orem ought to be the first to move in, and he had agreed. The lighting crystals in this room were as cracked and warped as those in the rest of the keep, and the furniture a mess of too-fancy pieces scavenged from other places, but it would do. What was most important was the large window that he now stared out from his overly large dark wood desk - it gave a good view of most of the eastern side of the Grove, and more importantly was big enough for any birds or wizards’ familiars to come through. In the case of an emergency - and those had been happening with some frequency lately - they tended to be much faster than most people were capable of casting a sending spell.

Ket had been noticeably absent when he was offered the room, and Orem had discovered later that he had taken the time to move himself into another one that wasn’t too far down the hallway from his own. 

He had seen Ket often since their conversation on the tower, but neither of them had ever brought it up again. Instead, they usually circled back around to one subject - if there was a way out of the feywild. News was not looking good - it seemed they were closed off from even the feydark and attempts at getting elsewhere had been failing one after the other. Ket had always been a private man, but the passing months had seen him retreat even further into himself. Orem would see him with those excavating the keep, looking tired and sullen, or not at all.

(Truth be told, it hurt that leaving, as everyone else had, was all Ket seemed to think about. But he had always been vocal about his hatred of the feywild, so Orem chose not to voice those feelings. He wasn't so sure he bought Ket’s explanation for still being here in the first place.)

Orem sighed as he straightened the papers on his desk. It was a worry, but he wasn’t sure where to rank it among the things he should be dealing with and so had been ignoring it. Ket knew that he was trying his hardest to get the feywild opened up, that would have to be enough for him.

On that note, he looked down at the research he had gathered up before him. Most of the alternative methods of escaping the plane had failed, so many of the people he had asked to look into escape had turned their attention on the trods Spud had sealed. The trouble was, most of them were in places that were still too dangerous to get data on. It was almost as if, without Spud’s control, the weirds in the wood were multiplying and rampaging out of control…

There was a soft  _ thump _ on the window in front of him and Orem looked up in alarm. Outside was a reasonably large brown owl, trying to get his attention by banging itself into the window. No reason to panic  _ quite _ yet, but as he pushed open the window Orem made a mental note to have a perch installed.

The owl fluttered inside and sat itself on the windowsill, panting with the effort.

“Monsieur Orem?” It spoke in a quiet, lyrical voice that was filled with worry, “ ‘zer iz a situation on the western edge of ‘ze grove. Some strange tree creatures have appeared and we are not sure if they are dangerous.”

Orem was already at his feet, moving to fasten his sword belt. Of  _ course _ , it was the side of the Grove he couldn’t see. He reached the door and paused to turn back at the owl, who was still gasping for breath.

“I’ll be there shortly, thank you.”

And then he was out the door - not quite at a run yet but quickly reaching it as he went down the hallway.

And - well, there was Ket, on the way to his own room, who looked up at Orem, saw his expression, considered for a moment, and then fell into step beside him. 

“Something going on?” He seemed cheerier than usual, if only by a little.

“Creatures on the edge of town. Maybe dangerous.”

That seemed good enough for Ket, who followed on the edge of Orem’s heels until they made it to the scene. What they found was not quite what they had expected.

When he heard tree creature, Orem had imagined something like a 12-foot tall monster, walking on its roots and making a scene. Instead, what stood in front of him was a group of four humanoids - tall, certainly, but still reasonable by his standards - with bark-like skin and calm demeanors. 

The crowd of nervous eladrin and gnomes parted for him as he arrived, and one of the tree-men raised a hand in a wave.

“I suppose you’re the one to talk to then?” His voice was low and ponderous, “We just wanted to say hi, didn’t mean to alarm everyone.”

Orem didn’t consider himself easy to throw off but this had certainly done it. His grip on his sword hilt loosened but his hand remained on it, just in case. Behind him, he could hear Ket starting to snigger.

“Well… Hello.” He started uncertainty, “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you all come from?”

Two of the creatures shared a look and another one spoke up. Her skin was a little darker, and the leaves she had in the place hair would be were bright red.

“We’ve been sprouting up around here for a few months now, finally figured it was time to get together and say hello.”

_ Sprouting up…? _ Orem frowned.

“Do you mean to say that you’re all only a few months old?”

The tallest one nodded, “That about sums it up.”

The red-leafed one held up a hand, “I’m three weeks, if you’re keeping track.”

The crowd around Orem murmured. It was strange, but the feywild was a strange place, especially in recent times. It wasn’t totally unbelievable. 

Another one of them stepped forward, hands held out in a peace offering.

“The way we see it, it's nice living out in the woods and all, but you folks seem like you could use a helping hand in getting situated. We know as well as anyone how hard it is ‘round here.”

The crowd shifted uncomfortably again. It could be a dangerous trick, like so many things in the feywild were, but so few remained in the Cerulean Wood that to turn away the help would be folly. All eyes turned to Orem.

He bit his lip in thought. Even if it was a trick, turning them away could just as easily send some local Fey into a rage at not accepting the help. There was a long moment of quiet - and then he nodded.

“We appreciate the offer. There’s not much in terms of suitable rooms, but if you’re here to help I’m sure we can find a place for you,” Orem paused, “What… should we call you?”

The tallest one considered the question for a long moment, then smiled, “I think we settled on wilden, as a group, but if you’re asking for me specifically I haven’t decided yet.”

The other wilden nodded in agreement.

The tension in the crowd released, at least partially. They were still unsure, but it seemed that if Orem was willing to go along with it, they would too. A gnome from the front of the crowd offered that she could maybe find them some clothes.

He caught Ket shaking his head out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned a questioning gaze on him Ket looked back with a roll of his eyes.

“I mean, it’s just a bunch of strange fey creatures. What could go wrong?”

“And I suppose you’d have me turn them away?”

Ket shrugged, “I just have yet to see anything good come out of this place.”

Orem shook his head and turned to leave. He had these new wilden to deal with, and no time for Ket’s bad attitude.

* * *

Orem looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowned. Things in the Grove had been going well since the wilden had shown up, but not so well that he had been able to find the time to expand his wardrobe beyond a few new robes. The one he had on now was a pale lavender, clean-cut but elegant, and would be perfect, only the accents on it were just the wrong shade of gold to match his circlet, of which he had few options to choose from.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ket was fiddling with some buttons on a similar robe. It was the only one Orem could find on such short notice that would both fit Ket and that he would agree to wear. It was a simple beige thing, better than Ket’s usual attire but very safe as far as eladrin fashion went. Orem was convinced that Ket would look like someone meant to serve drinks instead of a guest of his, but Ket had grumped and said he would prefer that to trying to pretend he belonged there - so Orem, unsure how to retort, let it drop.

“You know, I’m sure if you insisted that you didn’t want this to be a big deal, they’d tone it down”

Orem shook his head and frowned again. He'd probably just go without a circlet. It would be unconventional, but he felt it would fit the current state of things.

"The ceremony isn't for me,  _ Ket.  _ It's so people in the Vale can see their new Arcane Protector and feel… Well, protected!"

Ket replied with a noncommittal grunt and moved to step behind Orem to get a look at himself in the mirror. His hair and beard needed a trim, maybe, but more than that, Orem noticed that Ket's face just looked...drawn.

Orem blinked and looked down to smooth the wrinkles out of his own robe, to try and put that expression out of his mind. Ket knew he was trying.

Behind him, Ket ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Are you sure you want me to go?"

Orem felt a bubble of anger rise through him. He had asked Ket to go as a courtesy. This was meant to be a celebration of those who had protected the feywild which did, in fact, include Ket. He pulled on the hem of his gown a little too hard.

"I'm not going to  _ make _ you go, if that's what you're asking," He snapped, "If you hate it here so much why did you stay in the first place?"

He knew he had gone a little too far as he said it, because Ket took a step back and looked away.

"I just missed my window."

"And you expect me to believe that you missed your window for what?  _ Me? _ "

Perhaps he was being a little unfair, but Ket winced.

"I was just unclear on…" He stopped, sighed, "I don't think I can talk about this."

It confirmed Orem's suspicious, at least. He felt the heat of anger drain out of him to be replaced by cold disappointment. Of course, he had known Ket hadn't stayed for his sake, he had  _ known  _ there was some ulterior motive, but he had still hoped he was wrong.

"You can do whatever you want," He mumbled unkindly, then stepped away from the mirror and all but stormed out the door. Ket stared at him, mouth open to say something more but no sound coming out.

Ket did show up, standing quietly at the edges of the affair with a blank expression. In an effort not to let himself be distracted Orem simply ignored him as much as possible.

The celebration itself was nearly perfect. Various families took their turns bowing and offering gifts and Orem would bow in turn and promise his protection to them. As though that wasn't was he was going to do anyways, title or no.

It had turned out to be a good choice that he had gone without a circlet, because when the wilden acknowledged him as their arcane protector they gifted him with a beautiful crown of flowers that managed even to match his wardrobe.

Ket was gone before the reception, which was all well and good for Orem. He didn't need to spend any more time thinking about that. This title meant feywild politics and bureaucracy were recovering, too, and he intended to be ready for them.

* * *

That night Orem's meditation - which should have been focused on the beauty of his ceremony and the new responsibility of his title - kept circling back to Ket. The helpless expression he had caught out of the corner of his eye as he had left his room, the haggard one he has seen behind him in the mirror. The conversation on the tower…

He didn't know what to make of it all. He had always been unhappily confused at the nature of his and Ket's relationship, and it seemed to have only grown worse since becoming stuck here with him. Orem was sure the other man would call them "allies" or "compatriots" or some other noncommittal word, and he had all but admitted to being here for some ulterior motive.

Yet… at the same time, what motive could Ket have possibly had to find him on the tower? To ask if he had been doing well? That had been the most, maybe the only chance he had really had to process everything that had happened in the past couple of years of his life.

Loathe as he was to admit it, Ket had been instrumental in making sure things had worked out, more or less, for the better. And maybe it wasn't for the best that Ket had wound up stuck  _ here,  _ but in some roundabout way, Orem was glad he was there.

* * *

The wilden, as it turned out, had the ability to grow new shelter from the very trees in the Grove. Things had been expanding at a rapid pace, which kept Orem very busy. Eladrin and gnomes were having children, and more new wilden walked out of the woods all the time.

Orem read over the proposal in front of him again. A new school, to be held in the excavated rooms of the Amethyst Keep. Beneath that was the request for a formal force of trained guards, utilizing the same space. 

Orem sighed and set the papers aside. This wouldn't even be a conflict if there were just a few more rooms deemed safe enough to use. He needed a break anyways, he would go downstairs and see what progress had been made.

The force of workers had nearly doubled in the past few months, many of the folks who had been building houses thankfully put out of the job. Orem found a group of them debating over the best way to clear out an enormous crystal that bisected a large ballroom. 

_ It could make a good lecture hall, _ he considered,  _ or a barracks. _

Those of them who noticed him straightened up immediately, a few even saluted. He bowed his head to them.

"How is removing this crystal going? Well, I hope?"

The black-haired eladrin closest to the crystal jumped and turned to face him. He looked like the one in charge today based on the pencil behind the ear and sheets of paper in his hands.

“Er-” his face had gone red at being caught unprepared, “I think so, Lord Protector.”

Orem tried to make his smirk not  _ too _ obvious, “Just Orem is fine. What I mean to ask is, when do you think this room will be usable?”

The eladrin grew even more red, casting a glance back at the crystal in the room. 

“Tough to say right now sir, maybe a couple of uh... weeks?"

Orem nodded, he expected as much from just the size of the thing alone.

“Fair enough.” This would be an easier conversation with someone who wasn’t going to say what he wanted to hear, “Where is Ket?”

There was a ripple of confusion as the workers looked at each other. 

“H’zard?” Orem clarified. 

One of the gnomes in the group scratched his chin.

“If you’re talking about the tall lookin’ fella’ we ain’t seen him in about a month.”

Orem frowned at that. He hadn’t spoken to Ket since his outburst on the night he had been named Arcane Protector and some part of him had been hoping to be able to ignore what had happened by talking to him about another, safer, subject. But if Ket hadn’t been here, what had he been doing?

He bowed slightly to the group, “Thank you for your time, I’ll let you get back to work,” and stepped away.

The next hour was spent half-heartedly searching for Ket. He didn’t really have that time to spare but Orem felt something uncomfortable about the situation nagging in his gut. The wards he had left Ket in charge of were in fine condition, but he wasn’t there, and a short walk around town revealed no signs of the man in question.

He tried to direct his feelings to anger - couldn’t Ket see how much there was to do!? Running off to the Kobold Alley or wherever he was now… So irresponsible! 

But Orem couldn’t fool himself with that train of thought. Not after the look he had seen on his face when he had left that night.

He looped his way through the Glade back to the center of the Keep. He only had one other lead, but as he made his way back up the stairs to his - and Ket’s - room, he paused. From his vantage point, he could hear someone’s echoey conversation as they walked down the hall behind.

“-don’t see why he even keeps that half breed around. You can tell from the look of him he’s nothing but trouble.”

A snort, and someone replied, “I’ve heard he got his magic through gambling. He’s not even got any skill! Having to work with him is practically an insult.”

They kept going, but Orem wasn’t listening anymore. He felt sick to his stomach. 

There was no way that  _ hadn’t _ been about Ket. Some part of him had known that that attitude was something Ket would have to deal with, but to hear it so boldly… To know that Ket probably thought that Orem felt the same way...

He took the stairs up quickly. Hopefully Ket would be in his room and Orem would be able to put his mind at ease.

Ket’s room was fairly close to his own but Orem had never taken the time to actually visit it. He stood outside the door awkwardly for a moment and then knocked on the door as politely as his nerves could manage.

There was no response.

He hammered on the door with the heel of his palm a little more forcefully this time and called out, “Ket? Are you in there?”

Nothing. He reached out and jiggled the handle to find it locked. Of course. He could easily call up the magic to undo the latch - the wards that had alarmed against such things had been broken long ago and had yet to be recast - and for a moment started calling up the magic to do so.   
Orem paused - if Ket caught him breaking into his room it would only make things worse. But if it was just to look, just to see if Ket was in there, taking a nap, or in the alley or whatever else he could be doing, that would be fine. It would be enough to put his mind at ease, at least.

With a brief flash of magic, the latch on the other side of the door flipped, and this time, when he jiggled the handle, the door creaked open to a dark room.

It was actually quite small, probably originally meant for some gnomish house servant or perhaps even as storage. There was a bed, backpack thrown haphazardly on top, shoved up directly into the side of a book covered desk, and a lone chair draped over with a familiar black coat. Orem had gotten the broken lighting crystal in his room replaced months ago, but Ket's was still broken- dim and flickering. 

And that was it. No Ket.

Orem found his hands shaking as he looked into the room. The backpack was a good sign, it meant he hadn’t just walked into the feywild looking for a way out, but the whole scene was depressing. He had told himself he wouldn’t, but he found himself walking over to the desk and picking up the books for some clues.

They were filled with various tabs and bookmarks and Orem flipped open to the first one. It was a book of fairy tales, that is, historical stories about the fey, and the first one was one he recognized. It was the tale of a young eladrin girl whose family had been taken by a fey, who went on a quest to save them. She, like everyone else in the book, was never heard from again.

Orem didn’t think it was possible for his heart to sink lower, but it did and he sat down hard on the bed to make sure his legs didn’t give out from under him.  _ Surely, surely Ket wasn’t planning on…? _

He reached for another book, flipped to another story - a man, going after the fey to rescue his lover. Another book - some long lost eladrin royalty challenging the fey to a duel to win his brother back. None of them ever heard from again.

Orem’s hand flew up to his eyes to rub away the pricks of tears that were starting to form there. All of these stories pointed to the same thing; Ket had to know that going after Torq was a folly, didn’t he? He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself but the effect was minimal.

Orem was hurt over Torq, but as the months passed he had begun to come and accept it not as a fault of his own, but just a casualty of the situation. But this was not the same situation; if Ket was lost to the fey as well, under  _ his _ watch, when he not only could have prevented it but very well may have been partially responsible? It would be too much to bear.

Orem sniffed and furiously wiped at his eyes. Wherever Ket was he hadn’t taken his things, which meant it wasn’t too late to talk him out of his. He slid the book off of his lap and onto the bed - the specificity of the books meant that Ket probably wasn’t just scavenging them at random, and that meant Orem had one more place to check.

He kept his pace brisk, and with an expression like he was certain he had on his face no one dared get in his way.

The library of the Cerulean Academy had been encased entirely in crystal, and the facets of the walls sparkled oddly in the dim light of the few candles in the room, but the shape of it was still mostly familiar.

Orem made no effort to hide his approach into the room and felt an instant ease of the tension in his shoulders as he caught sight of the man he was looking for. 

There was Ket, sitting at a table surrounded by stacks of books and looking at Orem, curious but wary.

Orem froze, blood pounding in his ears from the trek up the stairs mixed with his nerves. He hadn’t actually thought of what he was going to  _ say _ to Ket.

“Um,” He started eloquently, “Hello, Ket.”

Ket set the book down and raised one eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed and sounding even more-so.

“Do you need something?”

“I went into your room,” He blurted. Bad start. Ket was already defensive but he drew his shoulders in closer and his mouth became a hard line.

“Why?”

The fear was coming back. He wanted,  _ needed  _ so badly to fix this.

“I was looking for you and couldn’t find you,” he admitted, “I sort of panicked.”

Ket’s expression softened at that admission, just a little. 

“Well, I’m here. What do you need?” 

Orem nodded and swallowed hard.

“I saw the books,” It really didn’t make the same impact here, where Ket was surrounded by comically large stacks of them, “Ket please don’t do what I think you’re trying to do.”

There was a waver in his voice that made its way out as hard as he was trying to push it down.

Ket looked away discontentedly, not sure how to respond from this sudden outburst of emotion.

“I promised I’d help him come back,” He said bitterly, “And it’s not like anyone around here is keen on letting me do anything else.”

Orem took a breath that he knew sounded shakey.

“You’ve read the stories, you know how they all end,” Ket didn’t look up at him.

“Please,” His voice sounded so small and he had tears threatening to spill down his face again, “I don't want to lose someone else to this.”

Ket looked up, the hard look in his eyes giving way to something a little more worried.

“I wasn’t going to go out there with no plan. That’s why I’m here. To do research.”

Unsure what else to say, Orem took a few unsteady steps forward until he found his way into the chair next to Ket’s.

“All these books are going to have the same ending.” 

Ket didn’t respond for a long time, instead looking back down at the book in front of him on the table. Orem’s hands clenched into fists, bunching the fabric of his robes. He was sure Ket knew how futile it was too, but he didn’t want to be another in what he was sure was a long list of eladrin who had dismissed him. Not right now.

Finally, Ket spoke, voice soft, “I know. But it’s better than sitting around and feeling useless all day.”

Orem sniffed and reach up to wipe his eyes again, earning himself a look from Ket that he couldn’t see.

There was so much more he probably should have said, probably  _ needed _ to say, but the words didn’t find him and so instead he reached up with one hand, found Ket’s, and squeezed.

Ket sighed, closed his eyes, turned his palm up in Orem’s grip, and squeezed back.


	3. Year Three

It had been a compromise that not everyone had been happy with, but it was done. The Cerulean Guard, as it was now being called, had set up in most of the rooms of the keep and the creation of enough weapons to keep them armed was now underway. The new Cerulean Academy, on the other hand, was given two of the rooms in the keep, the rest of the classes being held outside in the courtyard until more rooms were given the clear. To placate those who had asked for the school, Orem had offered to teach classes himself.

It wasn’t as though he _ didn’t _ want to teach, but he felt he should be in charge of the guard as well, and he feared juggling those two obligations on top of his others might prove to be too much even for him. That would mean he would have to delegate, as so many of the new factions in the grove were begging him to do.

Orem drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk. There was really nothing for it then. He could take a reasonable amount of control over the guard but it would need someone who could take charge of them on a day-to-day. _ It would have to be someone with actual battle experience _ , Orem considered, _ But not someone who would disrupt the delicate balance of powers that was starting to form in this new society _.

One face crept into his mind. Ket certainly wouldn’t be the most _ popular _ choice he could make but Orem had plenty of first-hand experience with his skills in battle and would give none of these rising families the upper hand over one another. But then, Ket would probably have issues getting any respect from those he commanded, assuming they were mostly eladrin. _ But then again _…

Orem sighed. It hardly mattered what the advantages or disadvantages of putting Ket in the position were if he didn’t agree to it - and he might not, considering how despondent he had started to become as of late.

(He knew the reason, of course, but floundered helplessly to do anything about it. Of everything going on in the Grove right now, his personal failure to Ket was the one that caused him the most worry.)

But maybe he would say yes, and the purpose would snap him out of it. At the very least Orem figured that a second opinion couldn’t hurt.

Orem pushed himself away from his desk, stretched, and made his way out the door.

He knocked on the door to Ket’s room to no response, but he didn’t let it send him into a panic this time because now he had a reasonable idea of where to look. True enough, he caught Ket by nearly running into him on the way into the library.

He looked surprised, almost defensive, at seeing Orem again.

“Is everything alright?”

Orem nodded, “I just came to get your opinion on something. Is there anyone else in the library?”

Ket shook his head, so Orem stepped around him and gestured for him to follow. They set up around on the study tables in the library and Orem explained to him his predicament.

“...And if I gave the position to the Windlillies’ son, they would no doubt use the title to stir up tensions to be even _ worse _. So you see where I’m running into a bit of an issue.”

Ket had listened to Orem’s primer on the new politics of the Cerulean Grove with an unchanging expression that screamed ‘unimpressed’.   
“It sounds to me like you need to put someone in the job who’s not related to them at all.”

Orem nodded, glad that Ket was coming to the same conclusion he had on his own.

“That’s what I was thinking, only it would have to be someone with experience they couldn’t argue with.”

Ket went quiet, seeming to consider this, so Orem went on with a leading tone, “_ Most _ of the people _ I _ know like that aren’t in the Grove anymore.”

It took Ket a moment to catch on to what Orem meant, and when he did he blinked and looked at Orem, clearly taken aback.

“Are you suggesting… Me?”

Orem nodded, ticking off his points on his fingers, “You have combat experience, no one can argue with that. I know first hand how you handle yourself tactically. And you might make them upset, but you wouldn’t give any of the families an upper hand over the other.”

“I… dunno,” Ket frowned, “I’ll give it a try if you ask but I don’t see it going well. Most people around here don’t like to listen to me.”

Orem crossed his arms.

“Well, _ I’m _ asking. And if _ I _appoint you to the position people will risk embarrassment if they don’t listen to what you say.”

Ket sighed and then… chuckled?

“Fine. I never thought _ this _ was how I’d finally get promoted to captain.”

“You… Excuse me? Promoted?”

Ket raised an eyebrow, a smirk that Orem hadn’t seen in nearly a year on his face.

“I used to be in the guard back when I was in Coldport. Before I met you? I never made it beyond the rank and file, though.”

He paused to consider something and then said in a low voice, mostly to himself, “I wonder how Charlotte and Emill are doing…”

This, Orem knew, was not the time to lecture Ket about keeping secrets, though he wanted to. Instead, he cleared his throat, ignoring the heat that was rising to his face.

“Well, that’s even better than. You already have experience doing just this.”

Ket looked as though he was going to snap back with another reply but stopped, expression suddenly shifting to one of exasperation.

“There’s going to be some kind of ceremony for this, isn’t there?”

Orem nodded, and Ket groaned.

“It will be fine,” Orem assured him, “It just has to go perfectly, is all.”

* * *

They kept the ceremony short and simple just to assure that it _ would _ go perfectly. 

Ket hadn’t argued about dressing in something a little fancier than his now ratty shirt and coat, but when he had suggested maybe he should wear something a little more fitting to the job than some ill-fitting robe, Orem had agreed.

(It occurred to Orem only then that it seemed as though Ket was still living out of his backpack and that he really ought to get him something new to wear.)

That night, when he showed up at Orem’s door, it was not in some beige shapeless robe, but in something that suited Ket considerably better. He had on a high collared long coat - cerulean, of course - open to reveal a light half-plate etched with the star that had become the symbol of the survivors in the grove. His hair maybe still needed a little trim, but here it looked much better, styled to look purposefully a little messy.

There was no need for it, but when Orem saw him he reached out to straighten his jacket. A heat had risen to his face that he would prefer neither to examine nor explain. They quietly made their way to the courtyard of the keep, where there was a similar set-up to when Orem had himself been named Arcane Protector. The crowd was not nearly so large this time, made up mostly of those hopeful to have gotten the title themselves and those who were intending on joining the ranks of the guard.

Ket’s ceremony was not nearly so complicated as Orem's had been, involving simply Orem naming him the head of the guard and a simple bow from Ket to each group in attendance. The reception proved a little more delicate - involving a lot of Orem insisting to the muttered worries of the families in attendance that _ yes _, he was confident in his choice of Ket - he had helped him defeat Spud, after all.

Those who hadn’t been chosen left as soon as politeness would allow, leaving this gathering a much smaller affair than Orem’s had been. That just left Ket introducing himself to the - smaller than Orem expected - group of people he would be working with for the foreseeable future.

At one point a wilden a foot and a half taller than Ket greeted him. He was mostly green, and had managed to find something that mostly fit, though the hems could stand to be a little more taken out. Instead of the usual distant curtseys and bows, he walked right up to Ket, put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “I’m looking forward to working with you,” in a deep rumbling voice.

Ket had been so taken aback all he could manage was nod, and the wilden had smiled and told him, “I think you’re gonna do great,” before wandering away.

His departure had left Ket and Orem with a brief moment alone. Ket let out a long breath and locked eyes with Orem, who had to blink back his own emotions from welling up. Something about him had reminded Orem of Torq, and it was clear that Ket felt the same way. They only had a moment of peace, but Ket reached up and squeezed Orem’s shoulder and somehow the tension was released.

The reception didn’t last for much longer after that, as the rest of those in attendance filtered their way out to get prepared for their first day on the job. Orem and Ket stepped out not much longer after that, walking again in silence to the floor where their rooms were. At the top of the staircase, Orem paused and, after a few steps, Ket stopped too and looked back questioningly.

“Ket… Who are Charlotte and Emill?” It had been a question that had been nagging at him since he had heard Ket mention their names, but hadn’t found a way to bring it up. Asking at random wasn’t much better, but Ket just tilted his head in confusion.

“They’re my siblings?”

“I didn’t know you had siblings!” Orem squawked.

Ket raised an eyebrow, obviously trying to hold back from laughing. 

“Probably because I’ve never told you?”

It had always bothered Orem how resistant Ket seemed to talking about himself, and he was torn between wanting to celebrate having made the most progress that he had ever done and pouting over how it had taken this long.

He settled on saying, “Well maybe you should have!”

Ket still seemed more amused than bothered at Orem’s reaction, “Why?”

_ Because I care, because I’ve known you for years and I want to know more about you _ \- “Just… Because!”

Ket laughed and moved away the short distance from the top of the stairs to the door of his room.

“I’ll think about it. Goodnight, Orem.”

Orem closed his eyes and sighed, purposefully making it a little overdramatic.

“Goodnight, Ket.”

* * *

With Ket in his new position, the two of them quickly formed a ritual. Around mid-afternoon, when Orem was finished teaching classes and Ket was done leading his patrols, they would meet in Orem’s room. Ostensibly, Ket was there to give a report on what he had done that day, which he _ did _, but as he grew more used to his position there grew fewer things he would have to report on any given day - barring a weird attack or something similar.

That meant, more often than not, Ket’s reports would just devolve into the two of them_ talking _. Orem didn’t know if it was inadvertent or if Ket really had thought about it as he had promised, but he learned more about the other man on those afternoons than he had in their whole time of knowing each other.

_ His grandmother was where he got the eladrin blood from, last name Peacetree and though Orem didn’t recognize the name, it would be one he’d be looking into. He was an orphan. He did a lot of odd jobs besides being in the guard, maybe not all of them legal, but that was besides the point. _

Orem kept an ear out as well, and was glad to hear that, aside from those with their heads too far up their asses to ever give Ket a chance in the first place, most people thought he was doing a great job.

(And it did come up in a later conversation that yes, Ket still _ hated _ the feywild, but he liked the job, liked the people he was in charge of and figured he might as well take some pride in it.)

Orem did still set aside an hour or so each night looking for a way out, but the research had reached a dead end in every way, except for the hope that with time the plane would realign itself and they would be free.

* * *

It had been almost three years since Orem’s parents had left the grove, two since he had been named the Arcane Protector and one problem still hadn’t been solved since then. 

His wardrobe still had nothing in it that they would deem acceptable.

It had certainly expanded in the ensuing time, but if the robe he wore wasn’t _ just so _ then he was sure to be the receiver of some nettling remarks.

The sending he had received the evening prior had been an invite to a party to celebrate “_the achievements of their children and the recovery of the feywild”_, but Orem knew them well enough to know that what they meant was “_boost their own prestige by showing off everything their offspring had done”._

Unfortunately, his own title and reputation obligated him to go despite the fact that he _ desperately _did not want to.

He held one robe up to himself, sighed, and then tried another. He wasn’t sure anything he had would do.

That was the situation Ket found him in when he showed up to give his daily report. These days he didn’t bother to knock and made his way into the room to stand behind Orem and watch his distress in the mirror.

“Having trouble?”  


As Ket had grown more comfortable in his position as Captain of the Guard he had changed up some things about the uniform - the blue coat swapped out for a red one that fit him better in style and tailoring. Today he had shown up with the sleeves rolled up, but the thick gloves he wore on patrol still on. Same etched half-plate, maybe a little more dented, same ruffled hair. 

Orem froze as he caught sight of him in the mirror. Maybe it was the fact that Ket was smiling - that he seemed happier than he had since they had come to the feywild to begin with. Maybe it was just the image of the two of them together but… _ when, exactly had Ket gotten so attractive? _

The thought caught Orem completely off guard and he stammered trying to figure out what to say to distract himself from it. The fact that Ket just smiled wider at his embarrassment was really not helping. Hopefully Ket would think he had just surprised him or something similar...

“It- It’s my parents,” He finally managed to get out, voice only cracking minimally, “I don’t think I have anything that will impress them.”

Ket stepped away to cross his arms and Orem turned to face him. The tension left his shoulders but his cheeks still smouldered a little.

“I don’t think any robe you could wear would impress them. _ I _think you should do whatever you want.”

Orem nodded, if only to mime shaking away the strange thoughts away to himself.

“That’s what I was thinking I’d probably do. Maybe I’ll wear the robe I like least. Knowing them it’s the one they’ll like most of all.”

“That sounds about right,” Ket chuckled.

There was a moment of quiet between them, and then Ket did something exceedingly strange. He frowned, and then he reached a hand out and brushed a bit of Orem’s hair back into place where it had gotten into disarray from trying and retrying on robes.

That, on top of everything else that had just been running through Orem’s head, was far too much, and instinct made him lock up and step back. Ket’s hand froze where it had been as the man himself seemed to catch his own mistake a little too late.

“Uh,” He chuckled nervously, hand falling to his side, “Sorry. That was… Reflex, I guess?”

Right, of course, Ket had a younger sister, and also, probably no idea about the many taboos most eladrin had about who could touch their hair.

“It’s… fine,” Orem sputtered, “I’m just… Going to get back to work now.”

Of course Ket would have no idea that something like that would be reserved for eladrin in committed relationships. And he would _ certainly _ have no idea about the strange thoughts Orem had been thinking about him moments prior. The fact that Ket was blushing too was really, _ really _, not helping.

Ket nodded, making his way to the door a little too eagerly.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

When Orem was sure that Ket was gone he made his way over to his desk chair and practically collapsed in it, resting his face in his hands.

It was okay, he told himself, because Ket wouldn’t look too much into it (he would), and he would come by at the normal time tomorrow and they would both pretend like nothing happened (they would), and Orem himself would try and forget that this interaction had ever happened (he would not). 

It wouldn’t even occur to Orem until hours later that Ket had never actually given him any sort of report.

* * *

It was almost as though everything his parents did was meant to specifically throw Orem off. He had not had a moment of peace and quiet since he had stepped off the dragonfly that brought him here - and that had been a rough trip itself.

He had been on his feet for hours, entertaining other guests and trying to make himself look knowledgeable about the affairs in Whitestone, which he knew next to nothing about. It wasn’t until the late evening that he finally got a moment of relative peace, standing next to his parents on a large dais at the end of the dancing hall, watching the other party-goers. Kammis was still down there, telling some story about her adventuring days for what must have been the third time and still managing to look calm and collected.

Orem blinked slowly, his eyes heavy from the long day. It wouldn’t be too much longer now until it would be acceptable for him to step away from the party himself.

His mother appeared at his side from wherever she had been.

“Enjoying the gala?” Her voice was even and betrayed no emotion, as was usual with his parents.

Orem nodded. Truth be told he wasn’t sure how to deal with his parents anymore - they had obviously been careful in what they said to him since the last time he had been to Whitestone. They had never _ said _ anything about his outburst, but it was clear that they intended to keep dancing around it.

Althea looked intently at the crowd of dancers swirl their way around the dance floor. 

“I was surprised,” she suddenly spoke up, “That you didn’t arrive with a date of your own. Have you been seeing anyone back in the Glade?”

Of all the thoughts that could have flashed into his mind, for some reason, the one that came most strongly was the memory of Ket, standing behind him in the mirror as he had debated what to bring to this party. 

_ What was that line of questioning all of the sudden? It was a normal thing for a mother to ask, of course, but… Why had Ket been the first one to come to his mind? _

He hoped the red on his cheeks didn’t give away too much.

“Not at present. Things have still been quite busy there as we’ve been rebuilding.”

“Hm.” She looked away from him and back at the dancers, “Well you're getting to the age that you might start considering it. I’m sure there are many people, even here, that would be interested.”

The implication was clear enough, and though Orem wanted to wince he was standing where everyone could see and kept his own expression neutral.

“If I decide to see someone it will be someone I trust, and you will hear about it when it happens, not before.”

His tone of voice bordered on testy, and his mother gave a sidelong glance before nodding and stepping back to wherever she had been before.

He did a poor job of keeping himself distracted the rest of the night, and the following day as he rode another dragonfly home. He may have resented what she had been implying, but she wasn’t incorrect. At some point he would be expected to take a suitor. But he had spoken the truth to his mother when he had said it would be someone he trusted, and there were precious few that filled that description.

And that same damned memory kept bringing itself back to his mind - of Ket reaching out and brushing his hair aside.

Did he trust Ket? Orem supposed he did, in the end, even if it wasn't completely. He was certainly attractive - but that didn’t matter anyway. Pursuing Ket like that would be too strange, would be too reckless, would risk the delicate relationship they already had. 

Better not to focus on things like that at all.


	4. Year Four

On his return, things in the Spring Wood continued as normal. Orem would spend long days teaching and doing his other duties as Arcane Protector; Ket would lead his patrols ever further away from the Grove, trying to find some clue about the fractal plazas and the barrier between this plane and the others, but would still reliably show up at Orem's room at about sunset to tell him what they had seen.

Both Orem and Ket had ignored the moment that had happened between them before Orem had gone to visit his parents, moving on as though it had never happened. That was fine by Orem - even if he  _ did  _ spend long nights of meditation recalling it, and the words of his mother, and reaffirming to himself that no, he would not try this, not with Ket.

Things had become so routine at that point that one evening when Ket was twenty minutes late Orem began to feel uneasy. There wasn't a good reason for it - there could have been any number of things that could have held Ket up, and if they were bad enough to warrant his attention he would already have gotten a messenger at the perch outside his window.

But as twenty minutes became thirty, and then stretched on to an hour, Orem became more and more antsy - focusing on his own work became nearly impossible. He was almost ready to go down to the barracks himself when there was a knock on his door. Orem stood and walked over to answer it with a building dread. Ket never knocked.

On the other side of the door was another eladrin, a girl, short, and probably fairly young. Her voice wobbled with nerves as she bowed and spoke. 

"Master Rivendorn… Earlier today the Captain went out on a normal patrol out into the woods and has yet to return. We've attempted sending rituals and animal messengers with no luck," She paused and took a deep breath, "We're going to keep trying, but we fear the worst." 

Orem kept his face impassive. It wouldn't do for  _ him _ to panic, after all, at least not publicly.

He bowed his head.

"Thank you for letting me know. Please keep me updated if anything happens."

She bowed back and turned to leave. Orem closed the door behind her and stared at it for a long moment. There was no reason to panic. Any number of things could be responsible for the delay and lack of response, not least of which could be the failure of the spellcasters.

He made his way back over to his desk and pulled his own ritual supplies out of the drawers. He had cast sending hundreds of times and if he just kept calm he’d have no problem doing it one more. Orem took a deep breath and got to work.

"Ket, please let me know the status and location of your squad. We will send aid if needed."

He spoke calmly, he knew the sending had been cast correctly, but as seconds and then minutes passed by with no response Orem let out a shaky breath. It could still be a failure of the spell, but that seemed even less likely now.

Still, he tried again, this time targeting another member of the missing group.

"This is the Arcane Protector. Please report with your status and location."

Another minute and still no response. Not good. Orem sorted through his desk drawers again, pulling out more components, different scrolls. He had taken the time to learn another ritual, a version of sending that, in theory, could not fail.

"Ket." His voice was far weaker, far less calm this time, "Please tell me where you are and if you're okay."

He could  _ feel  _ the spell work, knew his message had been sent out properly. But he waited, one minute, then five, and there was no response.

That still didn't confirm anything, but Orem was not exactly confident.

* * *

It had been three days since Ket and his squad had disappeared. Nerves were higher in the Cerulean Grove then they had been in years. Orem tried to remain calm, to inspire confidence, but truth be told he found it difficult.

He had still sent a sending each day, just to be sure, but there was no response, and as more time passed he wanted nothing more than to withdraw to his room and try it over and over again until it worked. Something deep down within Orem ached. Ket had, for whatever reason, been the only one not to abandon him, and he knew this wasn't the same, but the sudden lack of his presence stung.

A disappearance like this meant that Ket and his squad had either been ambushed and killed, or were dealing with a greater fey. Orem had looked at the sword he kept hanging by his door and considered seeing if he could go find Ket more than once, only to be reminded of his own conversation with Ket. If it was a fey, going after him would be as good as throwing his own life away.

But he still thought about it often. What if Ket was alive out in the forest somewhere, unconscious, or the victim of a sleeping spell? It wasn't common practice to form search parties for those who went missing in the feywild, it usually just resulted in more getting lost, but he knew he had to do  _ something _ for his own peace of mind.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would start organizing the effort.

Orem had been having great difficulty meditating since this had all started. Tonight was no different and after an hour of failing to focus he took to pacing a slow circle around the floor of his room. He tried to tell himself he'd be this worried for any lost group, but he knew there was one person he wanted back safe more than the rest.

There was a gentle  _ tap tap  _ at his window and Orem turned his head sharply to look. Outside, on the perch, was a little hummingbird, pecking at the window ever-so determinedly. It shot up into the air to hover in front of him as he opened it.

"Oh Mister Orem!" Its voice was musical and a little too fast, "Someone told me to tell you that a group of folks was just spotted coming towards the keep. Cerulean Guard type folks!"

Orem didn't even pause to thank the bird, he was already almost out the door before it noticed he was moving. He passed by someone else on the stairs down, who froze for a moment, seemed to realize Orem already knew what was going on, and called some directions out to him.

It was hard to see in the dark, but Orem was already squinting to see who had arrived before he got close enough to see their faces. A squad like this would normally have gone out with eight, but he only counted six and his heart sped a little faster.

As he got closer he could see who had made it. Three bedraggled looking eladrin, one carrying a gnome on their back. And there, with one arm slung around the shoulder of a wilden and the other clutching at some wound at his side, was Ket.

He wanted to call out, but seeing them again, seeing  _ him _ again, alive, he froze. Their group stopped too, looking at Orem wearily - with the exception of Ket who, despite everything, looked more concerned.

_ Did he really look that bad? It should be backwards, _ Orem thought,  _ I should be the one concerned, I should ask what happened or if he’s okay… _

His jaw was too stiff and his throat was too tight. Instead of those things what he said was, “I expect a report on what happened as soon as you’re able. In the meantime, go and have your wounds treated.”

The group nodded and started plodding their way forward - all except Ket, who was moving forward by virtue of being dragged along by the wilden supporting him, but whose eyes stayed locked on Orem with an unreadable expression.

Orem swallowed hard and waited until they were out of sight before leaving for his own room. It was a mess - his desk was still littered with the remains of failed rituals and the rest of his paperwork was scattered and unsorted around the rest of the room. But now, when he made an attempt to pick some of it up he found his hands were shaking. He hadn’t realized quite how badly Ket’s disappearance had affected him until he had gotten back. Maybe it would be better to leave it for tomorrow, then, after a good night of meditation.

He clasped his hands together as he sat down in his usual spot - an overstuffed, comfortable couch shoved into a far alcove, still with a good view of his window and the Grove. He wondered briefly if he should ask Ket to leave his position, seeing as the danger it put him in compromised Orem's own ability to do his job, but knew at once that would be too selfish. To ask Ket to give up the thing that had given his time in the feywild purpose just because Orem couldn't handle the danger it put him in would be too much, even if Ket probably  _ would  _ do it if he asked.

He settled down in his seat, evened his breathing and was meditating a good hour before hearing the quiet creak of his door. He knew at once it was Ket, still a little haggard, battered armor replaced with bandages and a loose shirt, leaning on his doorway.

He had calmed himself considerably from when they had first arrived, but seeing Ket again brought a surge of emotions rushing back and in a moment he was back on his feet. He had to blink a few times to make sure no tears leaked out.

“Ket.” His voice was much weaker than it had been when he had greeted them outside, “What happened?”

Ket’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the mess Orem had left it in before landing on Orem, expression something soft that Orem did not want to think about.

“We had a run-in with a fey. Not greater, I don’t think, but it really took us out of it for… A while,” His voice was rough, “To be honest, I’m surprised as many of us managed to get out as we did.”

Orem nodded. He wanted to say something, felt like he needed to say something, but instead, tears welled up to his eyes. He hadn’t had many emotions other than ‘nervous’ since Ket had disappeared and now it was all over he involuntarily sobbed.

“Orem…” Ket’s voice was soft. He shouldn’t have to be the one comforting Orem now, but chances were he knew exactly why Orem was crying.

This time when Ket stepped forward to hug him Orem didn’t move away, and after a long moment raised his own arms to pull himself a little closer. Orem didn’t know how long he cried, but when he was done Ket gently lead him back to his spot on the couch before making his own way back to his room.

It would be another moment that neither of them would comment on again, but that Orem would think on often.

Two days later when Ket went back to his room, he would find a fancy scroll case sitting in the middle of his bed, filled with scrolls of sending and a note saying  _ Use these next time you get in trouble _ .

* * *

Ket leaned back on Orem’s couch and watched him work.

He had been forbidden, both by the clerics and by Orem himself, from going back on patrol until his wounds fully healed, which wouldn’t be for another three or so days. In an effort to keep Ket from lapsing back into his earlier depression, Orem had invited him to come along on his own day as the Arcane Protector, but as the day went on, he started to feel self-conscious that perhaps his day to day wasn’t very exciting.

This part, especially, where he did paperwork, was probably not keeping Ket very entertained. Feeling sheepish, he turned to look at Ket who was still lazily watching him with hooded eyes.

“Ket, could you, ah…” Why was this making him blush? “Could you give me your opinion on this?”

It was nothing much, a sculptor asking if there were the supplies for a new statue to be placed in some garden - sketches included, most of them of Orem. There shouldn’t have been much for Ket to think about but as he looked over the papers his expression grew thoughtful.

Orem watched him carefully, until finally, Ket handed the papers back. 

“I think it should be of Torq,” He looked away, out the window, “He said he wanted a statue.”

Orem blinked and then smiled.

“Maybe it should.”

He flipped over the page with the sketches and started adding one of his own - Orem wasn’t much of an artist, but hopefully it would be passable. Ket sat back and watched, but strangely his expression stayed rather pensive. 

Orem hesitated, his quill blotting ink on what would be a horn.

“You don’t like it?”

Ket’s expression softened a bit, but there was a sadness in his eyes.

“It’s fine, it’s just… Doesn’t this make you feel a little bit like we’re giving up on him?”

Orem couldn’t keep eye contact with Ket at that question, instead looking out the window at the multi-colored lights in the Grove. Truth be told, he had given up on Torq as soon as he knew he had gone with the Hogba. The phrase was “never heard from again” for a reason, and as much as he missed his large friend he had never thought Torq would somehow be the exception to that rule. It surprised him a bit that Ket still thought that he might.

“I think,” he finally decided to say, “That remembering him is the opposite of giving up on him.”

Ket tilted his head and considered that for a long moment, then nodded, satisfied with the answer. Then he leaned over and tapped on the rough drawing Orem had made.

“He wanted it to be pretty big, though.”


	5. Year Five

Orem blinked and reread the proposal that had come across his desk. It wasn't a request for him to approve so much as an invitation for him to attend. 

A group, or rather it looked like  _ several _ groups, had taken it upon themselves to organize a celebration of their own. To five years of recovery, a formal gala for those who considered themselves a part of high society, and a festival for those who did not. He was invited to attend both, of course, and they were happening on the same night. They were calling it  _ The Night of Regrowth _ .

He would, of course, use the invitation to the festival as an excuse to step out of the gala early, but the idea of even a few hours of having to listen to more self-inflated egos talk to him about their drama made Orem feel existentially tired.

There was another problem, too. He would no doubt be expected to show up with a guest to this event, and while he was sure no one would say anything to him if he  _ didn't,  _ that didn't mean rumors wouldn't start flying in any case. Orem had been very good at shooing away suitors thus far, but going to a party like this, alone, would signal to everyone that he was  _ still looking _ when he most certainly was not.

He heard the creak of a door opening and the tell-tale sound of Ket flopping down on his couch after a day of patrols. Perhaps there was a solution after all?

"Ket… Have you been invited to this  _ Regrowth Gala?" _

Ket snorted, "No. I've got some people working security but I've opted to do something a little less mind-numbing."

"Well, would you go? If  _ I  _ invited you?"

It was perfect, really. People would assume Orem was just making his own statement by extending his invitation to someone he thought  _ should _ have been invited, his relationship status would remain a mystery, and he should gain no extra pursuers.

Ket balked, "Any reason or do you just want to torture me?"

Orem adopted his whiniest, most wheedling voice and slumped over the back of his chair, " _ Please _ Ket, don't make me suffer all alone. I might  _ die _ ."

Ket looked unimpressed until Orem straightened up and looked at him.

"It will only be for a little while. I intend to go to the festival too."

Ket heaved his own overly dramatic sigh, but the corner of his mouth quirked up just a bit, "Fine. But when you say a little while you'd better mean it."

* * *

Ket really could have gotten away coming to this event in a cleaned-up version of his normal uniform. For some reason, he had not, and Orem found what he  _ did _ choose to show up in totally unfair.

Ket had at this point accepted that nothing he could do was going to hide that he didn't really belong, so he had gone in the opposite direction. Everyone at this gala besides him was wearing some long flowy robe in some pastel color - Ket had come in a fine black tunic, beautifully embroidered with what else but tiny silver clovers. It seemed he had really put in the effort this time, because it fit him perfectly. It was absolutely perfectly not  _ fair _ how good he looked standing under the magical twinkling lights that had been set up over the dance floor.

Orem had been stunned speechless when he had first seen him, as had most of the rest of those in attendance. By the time he had gotten his voice back, it was too late. Ket was surprisingly popular, all of a sudden, and the two of them were swarmed by separate groups who wanted to talk to them. 

Orem hadn't noticed until now, but it seemed that ever since Ket had gone missing and then returned, rumors started to spread on what had happened. Ket’s squad had insisted that he had won them out of some encounter with a fey by beating it in some game. It sounded in character for him but for once Ket was humble about it, being vague on the details and saying it was really more luck than anything.

Ket seemed to deal with the new attention easily, if not with some confusion. Orem found himself getting distracted from his own conversations. Luckily, the thing about eladrin eyes was that no one could tell where they were looking, and he stole quite a few glances at Ket. 

_ This wasn’t fair, Ket was his guest, after all, they should get to talk, maybe even dance, only that was ridiculous... _

Of course, as the esteemed Arcane Protector of the Cerulean Grove, it was all too easy to have a fresh drink constantly in his hand. He found himself taking a sip every time he had a ridiculous thought like that, which was nearly constantly. By the time "a short while" was up, Orem was not just buzzed, but fully drunk, and still having to appear composed and fully in control as the Arcane Protector.

He watched as Ket nodded to some last curious party-goer and stepped away, scanning the party until he locked eyes with Orem.

And he was- oh no he was coming over wasn't he?  _ What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? _

Ket managed to squeeze his way into the group that had surrounded Orem. Even though he was watching it happen it was almost a surprise when Ket seized him firmly by the elbow and announced to the crowd that he needed to have a word with Orem. 

_ Not 'the Arcane Protector', not 'Master Rivendorn'. Just Orem.  _ He was sure the heat on his cheeks was just the alcohol, and nothing else. Ket leaned in close to talk to him in a low voice, which was really not helping.

"I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get out of here."

Orem nodded dumbly. He was sure Ket could have taken him anywhere he wanted at this point and he would have gone. 

But Ket was not implying the dirty thing Orem’s mind had jumped to, just leaving this social event and going to the festival a short walk away. Orem made his way back to the crowd, bowed very carefully, and announced that he had other business to attend to this evening. When they had suitably dispersed he made his way back over to Ket, who looked Orem over one more time and then placed his grip firmly back at Orem's elbow.

"How are you already so drunk?" Ket's tone was conversational, maybe even a little concerned, though Orem was sure he was imagining that.

"I'm only a  _ little _ bit drunk," said Orem, trying to sound offended and only really succeeding in sounding more inebriated, "And anyway, it's not my fault. People kept going to talk to you, I was jealous!"

Ket chuckled at that, "I dunno, you looked like you had  _ plenty  _ of people looking for  _ your  _ attention."

Orem shook his head and his cheek brushed the side of Ket's shoulder. He hadn't realized he was leaning so far into Ket, and when he righted himself he took both of his arms and looped them around Ket's.  _ Just to make sure he was standing up straight, of course. _

"I meant I wanted to talk to  _ you.  _ I invited you after all. It's only fair!"

Ket gave him a bemused look that, like everything else about him this evening, was most certainly  _ not _ fair.

"Well, I'm here now. Talk all you like."

The festival proper was much more enjoyable. Carnival games, as a rule, were treated with suspicion in the feywild, but there were stands upon stands of food to try and a gnomish fiddle band playing music for some much more lively dancers.

Free food was suspect in the feywild, too, but Orem was given a steep discount wherever he went that he took advantage of. At every stand, he would get  _ something  _ and hand it to Ket to make him try. Most of it was pretty good, but every now and then there would be something that Ket just could not handle.

"Shrimp should  _ not _ fizz in your mouth like that," He insisted vehemently as they left another stand behind, “And they shouldn’t be sugary!” 

There was plenty of alcohol to go around here too, though at a certain point Orem stopped noticing when Ket would gently take a cup out of his hand off to someone else. Most of the evening was spent like that, until even most of the fair-goers had filtered away and Ket suggested that maybe they go back, too. Orem didn't argue, at this point more than happy to go wherever Ket pointed him.

It was a bit of a struggle to get both of them up the stairs - Ket was bordering on drunk himself - but they managed to get to the top. Orem’s room at the far end of the hall seemed like a journey too far to make, and Ket seemed to agree, leading them both to his much closer door.

Ker had already dragged Orem inside before he realized.

"Ket, this is  _ your  _ room," He said as though it was some revelation.

Ket shot him a look - he may have been drunk, too, but significantly less so than Orem was.

"Yes it is," He confirmed, "You're too drunk to leave alone, and  _ you _ don't have a bed in your room."

Ket gently pushed Orem towards the aforementioned bed, where he immediately flopped down onto his back, netting himself a lovely view of plain wall.

"Did you finally get your lighting crystal fixed?" 

"Yes," Ket’s finger jabbed him in the side, "Now sit up, you're gonna get mad at me if I let you ruin those fancy robes."

Orem obliged, though not without trouble, and Ket fumbled his way through the snaps and hooks on Orem's robe. Orem did very little to help, only putting his arms up to help get the garment off. His under-robe was one of his nicer ones, too, but Ket didn't seem to want to go that far, and started the process of carefully arranging Orem’s clothes over the back of a chair so they wouldn't wrinkle.

Orem lay back down on the cool sheets. His head had been swimming all night and this was the first bit of relief he'd gotten in hours. This earned him another jab from Ket.

"Lie on your side."

"Mmph," Replied Orem cleverly, "Why?"

"Because you're drunk."

That was a good enough argument for Orem, who after a bit of wiggling around and a little more of Ket's help pushing him, wound on lying on his side.

Ket stood up to do something else, but in his drunken haze Orem interpreted that as Ket  _ leaving _ . Ket had never stayed the night with him, after all.

"Wait, Ket." He called out, voice a little tearful, "Don't go yet!"

Somewhere in the dark, Ket’s hand found his wrist and squeezed.

"I said I wasn't going to leave you alone."

Orem’s hands fumbled around until he found a suitable spot, where he patted the bed.

"No, I mean stay. Here."

Ket, who at this point had managed to shed his tunic, sat down at the spot Orem had indicated, looking at him uncertainly.

Orem hummed some tuneless note.

"I wish you would stay the night," He said, "I wish that every night."

He was too far gone to think of that as embarrassing, or to see Ket, shocked for once, as he tried to think of what to say. He was quiet for a long time before saying, "You know, that can be arranged."

Orem hummed another note. Ket seemed to take that as an affirmative, because he moved from his spot sitting next to Orem's head to, ever so gently, lie down next to him. He seemed uncertain at first, but Orem instinctively snuggled into the heat next to him, and so he reached one arm out to pull him a little closer.

If meditation was to be compared to organizing all your thoughts on a shelf, doing so while drunk would be like attempting the same task, but you had to pick the memories out of a swirling brine and they weren't guaranteed to be in the spot you left them the next time you looked. Orem rediscovered several times that night just how obvious he had probably been in staring at Ket after his second glass of wine, and it had only gotten worse as he kept drinking. As he got more sober, Orem grew very still. Ket was sound asleep at that point, so it didn't really matter, but Orem was horrified at himself. He knew  _ why _ he had said those things to Ket, but the fact that he had actually done them was too embarrassing to bear. And yet this moment was too nice to just  _ leave _ .

In the small hours of the morning, the combination of nerves and alcohol grew to be too much, and in a moment of panic, Orem broke his stillness and pulled himself to the edge of Ket's bed to heave. He had had a lot to drink, and so unfortunately there was a lot of…

Ket's sleepy voice came from behind him, "Are those flowers?"

Orem nodded, too incapacitated to answer. Ket reached out, pausing for just a moment, before gently taking hold of Orem’s hair and pulling it away from his face. Ket's other hand found his back and started to rub small circles there.

"At least it's just plants," He mused quietly, "Much easier to clean up that way."

When he was done, Orem didn't move for a long moment, and Ket, seeing that he was done pulled his hands away. 

_ Well, it was already too late in the night to just leave _ , Orem figured,  _ And it's not like this could get any more embarrassing. _

When he lay back down it was in the spot he had been before, and it was only a few seconds before Ket's arm found its way back onto its place.

The morning wasn't as awkward as Orem had anticipated. In a few more hours Ket began to stir for real. He squeezed Orem a little closer one last time and then climbed out of bed, getting ready quietly, and scooping the flowers on the floor into his hands.

"I've got to go get back to work," He spoke as though he wasn't sure if Orem was listening or not, "I'll see you later."

Orem gave a small nod, and Ket left. He spent another long moment lying in the residual warmth before getting up himself. Last night had been fun, but it had only been one drunken night. Embarrassing, certainly, but not something Orem found himself regretting even as he squinted in the light of the hallway between their two rooms from the hangover that had started to form behind his eyes. 

Even if somewhere deep down he wished it weren’t true, nothing would come of this, he was sure. They were both busy people who knew better, after all.

* * *

The trouble was, if you invited someone to a party, and then left with them after they pulled you away from everyone else, and then were spotted going up to his room together, people would start to assume things.

Not that long ago doing what he had done with Ket would have caused a scandal, but it seemed that popular opinion of Ket had changed just enough that now Orem and Ket being …  _ Together _ , was not only plausible, but at this point, practically assumed.

Ket had been going on with his life as though nothing had changed. Maybe he smiled a bit more when he came to give his daily report (which Orem had learned, his act of doing was a major contributor to the rumors going around), but it just made Orem smile a little more himself.

He wondered sometimes that, maybe, if everyone assumed they were together anyways, if he should just ask Ket if he wanted to be. But Orem could never quite bring himself to do it. He had many concerns - Ket’s own proclivity for secrets still weighed on him, and worse still was the worry that something would go awry and he would lose one of the precious few friends he had in the feywild.

But every time Ket left his room smiling his too-smug grin Orem wondered furiously what rumors he had heard. It had to have been  _ something _ , it was the nature of his job to work with people who would give him shit about things like that. And yet Ket never mentioned anything of the sort.

It had been a week since the festival, and Orem thought about that night constantly. He was on the verge of doing something very stupid, because really, he wanted nothing more than to spend another night curled up next to Ket. He surprised even himself with how often his thoughts drifted back to that night, to the comforting warmth and weight of having someone - having _Ket_ \- just lay close to him.

(And, well, he also thought about  _ other things _ , too, but Orem tried very hard to distract himself every time he thought about anything more.)

His worst moment was an afternoon like any other, Ket had come in as usual, only today Orem wasn’t at his desk. He was looking at himself in the mirror again, this time brushing his hair with his fingers. He still  _ wasn’t _ going to confront anything, but he had begun to wonder, if he  _ were _ in a relationship, if he’d be able to pull off the look. 

Ket had tossed himself onto the couch as usual and was watching Orem plait his hair, undo it, and then start over again. He raised an eyebrow, but it seemed like Ket had learned better than to ask Orem questions when he was looking in the mirror. It always seemed to land him in trouble.

Orem was the one who asked this time.

“Ket, do you know how to braid hair?”

The chances of Ket figuring out the implications of this ask were slim, and he really  _ did _ just want to see what his hair looked like braided. By Ket, specifically. It was a harmless ask.

Ket seemed uncertain, but he slowly stood up.

“I mean- a little bit? I’ve done it for my sister before.”

Orem tilted his head to look at his own reflection and pointedly  _ not _ at Ket.

“Well, could you come and braid mine? I’m uh… Trying out a new style.”

Ket looked unconvinced but he walked to stand behind Orem and, very carefully, reached out and gathered the long blonde hair in his hands. He was focused very intently on separating the strands into exactly the right size, but he grew more confident as he got a rhythm going in actually braiding the hair.

“You know how I’ve been spending a lot of time in the library, right?”

Ket’s tone was conversational, but Orem was watching him carefully in the mirror and could see a conspiratorial glint in his eye.

“Yes…?”

“Well I picked up this book recently, it was a pretty interesting read...”

While he was talking, Ket dutifully looped the last plait into place. With nothing to actually tie it together the braid was loose, and would have come apart if Orem shook his head even slightly. He reached over his shoulder and gingerly pulled the braid to the front. He did like how it looked after all.

“What was it about?”

Orem was dubious about asking the question, but that seemed to be what Ket wanted him to do.

“Eladrin dating etiquette.”

Orem felt a wave of dread wash through him even as Ket smiled. If Ket was mentioning that it wasn’t for no reason. He had been found out.

Ket must have noticed his dismay, because he stepped away, expression still amused but now colored with something a little more serious.

“Orem.” 

Orem swallowed hard and slowly turned around, catching one last glance of himself and how badly he was blushing in the mirror. Ket was smiling at him, a little unsurely.

“I’m not sure how else I’m meant to interpret everything that’s happened, especially  _ this _ ,” He made a gesture towards Orem’s braid, which he was now gripping with white-knuckled intensity, “And I don’t know if you ever intended to do something like this eventually, but…”

Ket hesitated, his own face growing a little more red.

“What I mean to ask is would you like to go out to dinner tonight? For a date?”

_ Would I like that? _ Orem felt a growing feeling in his chest that yes, he would. 

He hesitated for a long moment, and his smile was a little weaker than he meant it, but Orem nodded, and Ket smiled back. Orem wasn’t at all confident in how this would go, but he wanted to find out. 

* * *

The fanciest restaurant Ket was able to find on such a short notice was a hole-in-the-wall little gnomish place with a staff that was  _ so _ excited to be serving the Arcane Protector.

There was a strange atmosphere between them, a tension neither of them was sure how to break. And then the young waitress came by to refill their glasses for the third time in ten minutes and Ket laughed and said, “Sorry about all this, I didn’t exactly plan it in advance.”

And the spell was broken. Their conversation that night may have been the same as any of the ones they had been having every afternoon for over a year now. Ket told the story of some mischief his soldiers had gotten into, Orem would tell of some mishap that happened in a class he was teaching. They would reminisce, for a while, on some adventure they had been on together. It was  _ comfortable _ , and it only hit Orem then that he had been comfortable with Ket for a long time now. It was a strange thought to have about someone he had known for so long, Ket still had his secrets, but at this point Orem just considered it a part of his charm.

They were still talking as they finished eating and walked out the door, but as they walked together in a roundabout way back to their rooms Orem grew quieter. As he noticed this, Ket did, too, until they were walking in silence. Tension between them started to build again and Orem began to panic -  _ should he reach out and take Ket’s hand? It was far too early for him to do that in eladrin society, but Ket wasn’t from the feywild and probably expected more- _

Ket sighed and Orem stopped in place.

“You’re nervous. I get it but… Tell me why?”

Orem swallowed hard. He knew the answer, he supposed.

“It’s just… I like the way things are between us now. I feel like it took a while to get here and…”

He paused, took a shaky breath, “I don’t want things to change for the worse.”

Ket nodded as though this was a perfectly acceptable answer, and then he said, “But they  _ could _ change for the better.”

He watched Orem with a gaze that was almost pleading. They could. If he had the guts to do it, things might change for the better right now. Thoughts flashed through Orem’s head of the many evenings he had spent alone in his room, feeling lonely and tired and wishing someone  _ very _ particular would show up and distract him for a while.

He clenched his fists and then relaxed them, and then reached out and took Ket’s hand. Ket smiled brightly at him. It was such a small thing, but for all of the nonsense he had put himself through to get here?  _ That? _ That was  _ better _ already.

(And, well, if rumors were to be believed, he and Ket had been dating in secret for months, if not  _ years _ . This would just be a public announcement of what people already thought they knew.)

They ambled their way slowly home, hand in hand. On the way they passed through a garden, the very same one Kammis had announced her departure to him years ago, now held a large statue, still unfinished and covered in scaffolding, but with a curled horn peeking through.

They only released hands when they made it back to the door of Orem’s room and Ket took a step back. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, one hand going up to straighten out his hair, the other finding its way into a pocket.

“So… Orem?”

A twinge of nervousness that had taken all evening to wear off came back and Orem instinctually pulled his shoulders in.  _ Did Ket not think this went well? I thought this had gone well! _

Ket took a deep breath.

“Earlier, when I said I had read a book on eladrin dating etiquette… that wasn’t a joke.”

Nerves turned to confusion and Orem’s eyebrows pulled together. Was he trying to say that they were going too fast? Because maybe by eladrin society standards they _ were _ , but he hadn’t thought Ket would care about that sort of thing.

Ket went on, “I know that this is probably against some rules, but I figured we’ve broken so many of them anyways. But uh… Well, would you be alright with skipping to first kiss?”

Orem felt his eyes go wide. If this is what Ket had been talking about by things being  _ better _ it had certainly come fast. 

Ket had been the one who asked the question, but he wasn’t really prepared for Orem to reach up, grab his face, and kiss him first. It took him a moment to realize, but when he did Orem found one arm looped around his waist pulling him closer, could feel a small smile form on Ket’s lips.

They pulled away from each other for a brief moment, eyes still locked together. Ket’s expression was unreadable, but the way one of his hands was finding its way ever so subtly down Orem’s back was not. Any hesitation Orem might have had vanished with the electric shiver that ran up his spine.

“Ket.” His voice was embarrassingly already a little husky, “You know I don’t care about all of those dating rules, right?”

Ket smiled, and Orem felt his hand move even further down in a way that was  _ not _ so subtle.

“I was hoping you would say that.”

Ket pulled him in close again, kissing Orem with a burning intensity - and things would only get more so as Orem fumbled with the latch on his door to pull Ket inside with him. It was by all means too much, and too fast, but Ket obliged as Orem’s hands pulled his coat off, and more besides.

* * *

The next morning Orem showed up to teach his classes a little later than normal, but now with his hair in a long braid that sparked quite the conversation between his students when they thought he was no longer listening.

A few months later than that, the Salamander’s Coil would show up in the feywild and he would meet a new kenku friend. And as far as she knew, well, he had always worn his hair like that.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been a long, long time coming. 
> 
> Thank styxx for beta-ing this fic! They owe me a chapter of their own thanks to the blood pact we made! Look forward to that!


End file.
